Sequestered Liaison
by ajremix
Summary: Comfort can come, in the most vaguest of ways, from the most sullen of people. And the story is just as convuluted as that description. Sasuke/Futch


Sequestered Liaison  
  
  
  
The air was brisk and sharp in the upper garden as starlight filtered winds whisked flower petals to brush against the open night. The impending dawn glittered its promise in the distance while anxious torches slowly died down within the castle. Though the lights had turned off, little sleep would be got as hundreds of minds worried over their swooned leader or those injured during the darker part of the fortnight. A long, lithe figure was curled in the corner then unoccupied by the Flyers for the night. He rocked back and forth, balled up as tightly as he could manage with his lanky body. His chanting sobs were quiet and indiscernible but the two bright brown orbs were wide, reaming a hole within- not the world beyond -but within himself and his intangible memories, brimming with tears that coursed down wind bitten cheeks.  
  
The rhythm of his rocking seemed the only thing that harnessed him to reality, his heart and whispers beating the time of his restless movements. Forehead braced against barred arms, Futch watched unseeing as liquid pearls broke over his shadowed thighs. Something flickered across his unveiled eyes and he cried even harder.  
  
Slated eyes watched the figure curiously, following the rocking movement as the boy's body oscillated; back and forth, back and forth. Sasuke narrowed his fine eyes, coming to a decision, his feline silhouette uncoiled off the turret against the moon and faded with the wind, materializing as the air circled around the once Dragon Knight.  
  
Futch was too absorbed in his inner world and failed to notice the young ninja as he watched patiently, waiting for tears to dry and his presence to be realized. And yet, his rocking slowed and breath began to steady, reacting to a sort of warmth or kin-ness pulsing from nearby. Blinking rapidly his reddened, almond eyes, Futch kept his head down, shivering slightly as the breeze caressed the goose bumps rising on his arms.  
  
Sasuke, though not as certain at reading emotions as he would like to be, took this to be a somewhat decent sign to make himself known. With darkly tanned fingers he traced the smooth line of Futch's jaw, flicking gently the few jeweled tears that hung suspended in time. In surprise the older boy started, jerking his head back and latched his sights onto that of the calm ninja. Slowing his heart beat, Futch bent his head slightly and allowed Sasuke to reach back out and dry the shimmering trails with the rough-gentle pad of a callused thumb.  
  
Suddenly afraid of being alone, and anticipating Sasuke's sudden departure, Futch grasped the light hand and pressed it against his cheek. "Sasuke."  
  
He looked up and saw the sharp, steel dark eyes watching him steadily though the ninja seemed caught in the transition to shadow. A hand enveloped in soft, kidskin leather reached into that shadow and rested against the fragile glass that bound the unreal to reality and the shadow rippled, revealing Sasuke's full visage.  
  
Understandingly, Sasuke pulled Futch gently in to his grasp, feeling the other wrap long arms around his own slim waist and bury his wetted face into the junction of his collar and neck, waiting for Futch to spend what little tears he had left.  
  
As the final sobs faded into the consuming light, dawn began to chase away the dusk and Sasuke gently blew the soft down of auburn hair that tickled his nose, tracing the fine edges of the dragon headdress and messaging the slender neck and fine hairs with small, deliberate circles.  
  
"Why are you crying?"  
  
It was a soft question, not expected to be heard, even less to be answered, but they two just sat there, entwined together in the morning twilight.  
  
Futch lifted his head no more than a fraction, his warm breath stirring bare skin from where his sweet mouth had invaded the wood scented scarf looping across Sasuke's shoulders. "I don't know."  
  
"Are you crying for him?"  
  
"No." It was the calm against the passion, the wild against the stable, but the subtle change had happened and the steadfast were reaching for support by the impulse.  
  
"Why are you crying? Why didn't you join the others in their party?"  
  
Finally, Futch lifted his head from Sasuke's shoulders, perceiving deep in his eyes and feeling his lost control seeping back to him through their connected bodies. "Why didn't you join them?"  
  
Simply cocking his head to one side, the ninja dwelled on a proper phrase to the simple return. "It wasn't much of a party, everyone's too worried about Jyan to have much fun. Besides, I don't like crowds. I prefer to be by myself. But you. you need others."  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
Winds blew in from the sea that crashed faintly from the spiraled distance below, turning the air impersonal and almost cold, but the animosity no longer pressed down on the occupants of the recently occupied structure.  
  
"You care about things, about people. That's why you attend to Bright whenever it's in need of aid; that's why you cry after battles, isn't it?" He asked simply. "Because you've lost those you've cared about?"  
  
A bitter, short mockery of laughter hovered uncomfortably and dissipated not entirely into the clouds burning just as slowly overhead. "Care? The last one I've cared for was Black, and he died for my sake. I don't care for people now. Either because there's no one worth caring about or because I can't care."  
  
"You can't care or you don't want to care?"  
  
Futch shrugged, reaching painfully to his feet and walking to the edge, balancing precariously over oblivion. How easy it would be to let everything go, to watch the rest of the world unfold from beyond influence of the materialistic. Facing the sky, Futch was suddenly overcome with the desire to fly once more. Silently, he sat upon the ledge, long, darkly clad legs swinging carelessly in open sky. Just as fearlessly and just as quietly, Sasuke shifted along the edge, leaning elbows against knees so his shoulders lined over to emptiness.  
  
"Is this worth it?"  
  
"Is anything worth it?"  
  
Sasuke dwelled on the question. "I supposed it would depend."  
  
"Depend on?"  
  
"On what the effort was, the outcome, how badly one wished for the outcome and the cost of reaching it."  
  
"And whom you had depended on?"  
  
Mechanically, he looked at the former Dragon Knight, his face still upturned, leaning against his palms, elbows and back forming a triangle against the shifting colors of sky.  
  
"And who do you depend on?"  
  
"Those that prove themselves dependable."  
  
"Have you done so?"  
  
Slightly, the brown eyes narrowed for just a moment. "No. I allowed my steed to die, I was kicked out of the coterie. I'm forced to fight on foot, nor am I treating Bright as I should as a proper dragon handler."  
  
Sasuke lifted his legs from the abyss, hugging them to his chest lightly; the heavy gauntlet on his left arm gleamed dully. "Speaking as one who doesn't trust his life to fate, things must happen for a reason. If it weren't for your dragon's death, do you think you would have ever come here? You are one of the many 108 stars, twice you were, I believe."  
  
"Yes." He nodded, still unwilling to retreat from the edge.  
  
"Bright, however. I was told that you saved it, you were willing to raise it just so it would survive and not terrorize the nearby villages, am I right? You're unwillingness to fully work with it," Sasuke paused as he shrugged, "that's due to your own selfishness."  
  
"That may well be the case."  
  
With sudden intensity emitting from him, the ninja turned to the elder, his proud, fearsome presence resembling that of his aura on the battlefield: sure, controlled and relentless. Futch felt overpowered. "Am I dependable?"  
  
That overpowering feeling then became something else, that fear became comfort, became warmth and assurance and something within Sasuke made it known: should Futch decide to let the void receive him, there was one that would fight that emptiness for his possession. Futch slid back an inch, crossing his legs against the boundary of the ledge. The night earlier finally shoved its way through the wall of his pity and tears, suddenly leaving him drained, resting against the stability that was the tightly controlled impulse wrapped in the dark.  
  
"I feel so tired." Futch said quietly into the awakening world, not totally aware of his mouth forming the words and his breath pushing the sound passed thin lips. In a surreal lifetime, he felt time slow as frail, strong arms shifted around him, lifting and cradling him in a gentle embrace that emanated warmth and comfort in waves that wrapped itself in blankets against him. To bring himself closer to that source, Futch curled as close as possible, wrapping his arms around the thin column of Sasuke's neck and nuzzling the slender chest with his cheek.  
  
As the younger settled the former Dragon Knight into his room- sparsely decorated with memorabilia from his previous life -he was slightly taken back when Futch refused to release the flesh loop around his neck and instead pulled him closer to the soft surface of a down bed.  
  
"Sasuke." he whispered secretly, the soft tongue flashing pink behind pearled teeth and petal lips, "would you mind if I did something. surprising perhaps?"  
  
Sasuke watched patiently, saying nothing but indicating that anything different did not matter to him. Slowly, he was pulled down further until space meant nothing between them and Futch's trembling lips claimed his own.  
  
Sasuke stiffened, but didn't pull away nor relax to the touch.  
  
Three heartbeats and Futch let the other boy pull back far enough to see his entire face. The retreating visage was followed by slow, unhesitant, uncovered fingers that felt the rough silk of Sasuke's lips. The other hand, the glove clutched loosely in its grasp, whispered over the ninja's bare arm, shoulder and burn through the fine material of his shirt, the thumb barely passed the separation that granted entrance to the smooth, bronzed skin beneath. Sasuke was oddly entranced as Futch's thin fingers left his bottom lip, pulling slightly at the flesh before the tapered digit traced the latter's thin lip, pushing into his mouth and met halfway by his tongue. Futch's lips curled deliciously around the ungloved finger, the pale throat working as he gently sucked and messaged the tip, then trailed out of the hot crevice, pushing away the soft green cloth and stroking his collarbone until the hallow shone dimly in the faded light. Sasuke's skin felt too tight on him as his eyes and almost his entire body followed the movement.  
  
Turning his head towards the window, the sound of pattering quickly followed the sight of heavy sheets in passed the glass pane and Futch realized that it was raining. Looks like today wasn't a good day to fly after all he wondered briefly.  
  
Something beyond his sight and care shifted and brown eyes widened slightly when the soft touch of moist upon moist registered on his cheek. Sasuke, still braced over him, was leaning over and gently licking the few tears that had, unnoticed, trickled down Futch's cheek. He only rocked back on his heels, gently straddling the older boy after each droplet and trail were kissed dry.  
  
"Why?" Futch asked quietly, his voice only curious.  
  
The other shrugged. "It felt right."  
  
"Ah." A quiet, not uncomfortable pause. "Are you going to your quarters?"  
  
"Do you want me to?"  
  
Their lips once against bridged the span between them. "No."  
  
Just as quietly and just as softly against their joined lips, Sasuke replied, "Then I won't." 


End file.
